No Bull

No bull, this is real 
he looks at me chewing cud 
I look at him 
you have quite a bit of muscle

I’m glad the fence is in-between

how many press-ups, weights? 
or is all just natural with you 
he doesn’t ruffle to my thoughts 
and just goes on a-chewing

but I can imagine action, 
I wouldn’t want to get in his way! 
it reminded me, as a boy, when camping 
with the ‘Scouts’ in Scotland

No bull, this is true history 
we pulled up late at dusk 
and hurriedly put the tents up in the corner
of a field and were soon fast asleep

it was in unsuspecting morning light 
and you can guess! 
when opening the tent flap door 
to be confronted so!

No bull, it was shock of the first degree
then ‘Scout’ action never seen before 
and ever since then I have, what can I say 
a certain face-to-face respect.

Richard Scutter October 2021

The context of this poem is embedded in the text, what is more interesting is what prompted these words. We were visiting an historic cemetery in Canberra which entailed walking along a path adjacent to a paddock with this bull close by and the photograph above is of that animal. And by association it took me back to camping with the Scouts in Scotland. This triggered a latent experience long forgotten. And Scottish highland cattle are quite something to behold but this animal certainly had a touch of menace as I looked at him with interest.